Back My Jasper June
Chapters (32)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Epigraph
  4. The Last Day
  5. Actual Pants
  6. Totally in Control
  7. Extra Real
  8. Sealed Up Tight
  9. The Actual World
  10. All Settled
  11. A Certain Amount of Power
  12. Complicated
  13. A Softer Sort of Hum
  14. Looking Up
  15. A Quick Dip
  16. The Vine Realm
  17. Flaming Brains
  18. The Whole Story
  19. Far From Finished
  20. In the Junk Drawer
  21. The Whole (Other) Story
  22. The Sad Game
  23. Like Any Day
  24. A Change in the Weather
  25. Real Magic
  26. Conversation O’Clock
  27. Like Any Other Day
  28. Acknowledgments
  29. Back Ad
  30. About the Author
  31. Books by Laurel Snyder
  32. About the Publisher

“I read a lot of books,” I explained. “You know, about kids having adventures and stuff? I’ve sort of been training for this moment all my life. But I guess every kid fantasizes about running away from home, and . . .”

“No, Jasper said firmly. “They don’t.”

At the sound of her voice, I glanced up from my tangle of lights. “Huh?”

“Kids who might have to do it don’t fantasize about it at all. They plan.”

“Oh,” I said. “Yeah. That . . . makes sense. Sorry.”

I was so curious about why Jasper was here. I wanted that story. I could feel it in my belly, like an actual hunger. But she’d made it clear I shouldn’t ask her. So I only looked back down at the lights, pretended to unsnarl a knot I’d already loosened.

“It’s okay,” said Jasper softly. “I got what you meant, and the lights—they’re perfect. Thank you.”

After that, we fell into a frenzy of cleaning, organizing, and prettying up. The room was sweltering, and the first thing I did was to try to open a window, but they were all swollen shut, so I didn’t say anything about the heat, just wiped the beads of sweat from my lip and kept going. It’s funny how being a little bit hot can be uncomfortable, but somehow, being super sweaty can be kind of okay, especially when you’re working hard, or running, or something like that. Like sweat is different when you earn it.

Using the spray bottle of cleanser and the paper towels I’d brought from home, Jasper and I scrubbed every inch of that kitchen, which was really the only room she seemed to be using. With a broken broom we found in a closet, we swept all the debris and dirt out the back door and right into a bush.

Together, we dragged the bed into the yard, where we gulped fresh air and whacked at the mattress with sticks until it was as clean as it was going to be. Then we dragged it back inside and made it up with a fresh set of too-large sheets and a sky-blue blanket stolen from the linen closet at my house. Carefully, gently, I tucked the blanket under the mattress just so. Much more neatly than I ever made my own bed.